Category: Process

All right, so yesterday I finished a draft of my latest play, NANNA-SIN, inspired by the Ancient Sumerian myths of the god of the moon.

The story goes that two teens are the sole survivors of a village attack decimating their village. They make a pact to travel to the city capital to the temple of Nanna-Sin. One has a connection to the divine and the other seeks revenge. They cross paths with a priest in the House of Nanna-Sin, a lead orchestrator, who sees the potential to use their skill to make a political upheaval. The high priestess of Nanna-Sin is the one with the power, however misuses it to gain control over the people.

Anyway, without giving away the whole of it, which is what the reading on 10-14-17 at the EXIT Theatre is for (mark your calendars! 😉), I'm reflecting on a couple things I did differently this time around that I want to remember and perhaps expand on for next time.

You see, previously, my process of writing mostly involved swirling down the drain of imposter syndrome while simultaneously self-flagellating until the deed was done enough. After a recovery period of varying length, I'd say, "hmm there must be an easier way." But then, I'd return to the same old process and shrug that, "it must just be my process."

Well, how wrong I was about that! Here's some things I did differently this time:

1) Outline

Instead of diving into this good idea I had, I held myself to completing the outline. Well, at least 90-95% of it. The last 5-10% I was okay with coming up with in the process of writing out the script.

This helped SO much because when it came time to write, I didn't have to hold two different things "what happens next" and "what specifically they do or say in each moment" in my brain. I could get to the big story points and color in the details along the way.

The other thing was that if I discovered a new direction that didn't match up with a story point in the outline, it was easier to make a decision about what was the right way to go because I had choices. Not "this is the only thing at can think of"

Way more relaxing. Gotta do that again.

2) Collaboration and Constraints

I spoke with my director truthfully about where I was in the process and told her the story as I saw it.

A screenwriter friend recommended telling more stories as practice in… telling stories. I know, right? Like why did someone have to tell me this? But all I can say is that it wasn't obvious to me that doing this would have any positive impact on my storytelling abilities. Now it seems like a "duh" moment. Oh well, live and let learn.

So two aspects — talking through the story made me realize right away where I needed to work out some story holes and other challenges. For instance, one thing we acknowledged right away was that this story was way bigger than I had time allotted. So constraint #1, tell this epic story in 30 minutes and hit all the points. We talked through some ideas of how this could be possible. The story turns and transitions may be quick. I had it on my radar. Constraint #2, out of respect of my director's timeline and when she wanted to initiate rehearsals, it was going to be best if I finished by a certain date. Deadlines are always a good thing for me at least — though I am not nearly as good with self- imposed deadlines as when a deadline comes from someone else — especially if I'd be letting down another person or group by not fulfilling my end of the duty. Being on deadline gave me the ability to get it out despite it not being perfect. It made me make decisions that I couldn't worry too much about — should I really bring this element in or will people think that's hokey? Nope, gotta move on and get done.

3) Bring Yourself (Play to Your Strengths)

When you get into the nitty gritty of the story — this is where I shine once I'm in the flow. I knew I would be fine and could go for as long as I wanted once I got there. The outline and the deadline helped put a slight bit of pressure and narrowed the focus. Then, worries about what to say or how to transition from one thing to the next? Nah! I'm in the flow!

And then everything is just calibrated to keep me up. Music helps me with my pace and to keep going. I personally prefer atmospheric dance music that doesn't have a lot of lyrics. Sounds strange, I'm sure, but there's something about moving my body to the beat that every so often helps me get back into it full force.

This story has a lot of ancient elements that I didn't know about — so research helped. Cool things that I learned like how the first author was a high priestess of Nanna-Sin. She wrote poetry and hymns. So interesting because when you read them, I was expecting more sort of exaltations of mystery but really there was a lot about being victorious in battle against their political enemies? Whoa, that could be useful. File that away for later.

And then there was the part where I had to just give myself creative freedom and say, ok I may not get this right the first time and that's ok. Like is it historically accurate? No, but if I invent something based on what I know, it will take less time. And then there were other elements I knew I were going to incorporate like the characters have metaphysical powers so it's like a parallel world where these kinds of powers were not thought possible but are.

Tons of solutions to try to figure out but ultimately I used what I had closest to me as a tool. So, in this story I brought in my influences from yoga, internal martial arts, and Hawaiian healing. Like there are healing chants/songs, a power that one can feel, physical protocols and methods. Is it representational of those things? Oh god no. My teachers or staunch practitioners of these systems would probably frown upon me if I did that. But look, I'm just playing. I can play with stuff and also practice it more traditionally too. No biggie. It made it fun to play in the world of the play.

4) Technique

There were things I did to negotiate between the largeness of the story and the amount of time allotted. For instance, there are some moments where I had to represent a complex idea — like simultaneous time with different space/characters or advancing one character's arch with not a lot of pages. And through the magic of the form, I remembered that I can run both at the same time. I can have two places represented at once on a stage. People have the ability to listen to a story being told by one character and understand another person on stage as a character in that story. There's a point later on that I'm particularly proud of too for its low-budget, high impact way of representing multiple worlds. I use what I know is available in most theater spaces to make the relationship representational in a 3D way.

All sounds conceptual, I know, and whether I was actually successful in clearly articulating what I meant remains to be seen, though at least I tried. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work and we can come up with something else.

It's All Been Done BeforeAnd yet at the end of the day, it's all been done before. Someone else has written thousands maybe millions of stories with these elements. So it's not being created purely from scratch. Not when you think of it like that. Epic fantasy story that needs to be told in 30 minutes? A lot of cartoons do that successfully for multiple seasons!

There's something about the idea that if someone else figured out something remotely similar to what you're working on, it makes you (or me at least) feel like, ok well I can probably figure it out. At least an aspect of it! I mean I'm not trying to be a super amazing great writer all in one go, but, you know, occasionally people laugh at my jokes, think I represented a particular scene or moment in life well, or opened their eyes to a new perspective. Those things are all things that not just my mom and dad have told me.

I started Muay Thai on Monday. Class starts with 10-15 min of jump rope before shadow boxing and then some combos into pads with the best partner in the world (Brent Kekoa Ramos). Then we switch.

So the first day I made Brent give me his jump rope because the ones available were all thick weird looking tubes and I felt like 😐 about it. The one I grabbed seemed way too long for me to use. I should've just brought my jump rope but I keep my jump rope at work since it's a nice go to for lunch time practice if I have the time.

Anyway, second day I feel like I should just use one of the ropes available. The thin ropes look way way too long so I grab the weird tube one. I start jump roping and at first it's all good. I'm like "oh, I guess this is weighted?" And one thing that was great was I kept going for a long time. At least it felt like that. Like easily 5-7 minutes straight in my mind lol. I'm like skipping and doing great. No big deal.

A while in, I'm like "phew, this rope really does get heavy." I stop for a second and then it happens. I keep hitting my $&@;! feet with the stupid rope! Everyone goes barefoot on the mats of this gym. So when I miss, IT REALLY HURTS!!! Like right on the top of your toes.

⚡️😤😭

And it's the same spot and same foot from there on out. To the point where it was like, "Barbara, get your shit together and don't cry in front of everyone on your second day. You're better than that." 😂😂😂😭

So I get through it, do the hard ass combos that made my brain feel so slow and other than my right foot still feeling the remnant of being whipped with that f-ing rope, I feel good. Really good like "yes, I love learning!" type of good.

Next day, do a little yoga. Feel tired, the day is not impossible.

Today: must sleep. Must not move. Must move like a sloth. My inner elbow hurts. I can't do anything I am normally capable of without issues.

Geez, it's one of those recovery cycles where it hits you harder the second day. Ugh. Okay, well, now I know.

You know, I don't mean to look at the whole thing positively but I guess my surprise keeps me coming back to 2 things:

1. I did that jump rope WAY longer than I ever have without stopping. I just feel like if I can do that then of course I can do way more complex things with it! 2. Even though that foot whip pain got to be extremely painfully intense after a while (combined with going past my threshold for cardio), after a while it faded and I forgot about until later in the evening. Then nothing. So, it does go away. It does fade.

I get the above lessons in martial arts all the time. Probably why I've stuck with it. Because would you still do something that would give you 1 if you had to go through 2? Maybe. I don't know. I suppose.

All I know is that next time I jump rope with my shoes on, I'm going to be really thankful for those shoes. 👟👟

I took a trip to Minnesota recently that came with a lot of unexpected detours. I went to celebrate my grandmother's 90th birthday and as the second stop on the Jwanouskos Ramos Wedding Celebration Tour.

We had an amazing time seeing the beautiful lakes and forest areas. So green compared to California! However, the time was sadly overshadowed by my grandmother's decline in health.

She was a strong woman with a huge heart — one that unfortunately was born with a defect. Her breathing became more and more difficult during the time we arrived such that she was admitted to the hospital the day after we flew in.

She knew. We all knew what was next. Though I tried to avoid the conversations and the subtle shifts, she was dying. In my head, her death was something that would happen way far off. Not when I was there. As time went on, it was clear she wasn't leaving the hospital. So the best we could do is make her comfortable.

Maybe it's the wrong segue, but I depended on my practices during this time. I have her and my weary family members lomi lomi massage. As the pain medications wore off, I sang her Ka Lei Aloha I Na Kupuna – a Hawaiian chant and lullaby that Brent and I sang for the new expectant mothers preparing for birth. It is a song about being surrounded by the love of the ancestors and understanding that you too are part of that love. I talked to her about my tai chi practice and the book on Russian breathing systems I was reading. I read her my poetry. I talked to her about the business Brent and I hope to create. I talked to her about my step daughter — who she told me to give the beanie babies in her basement. And I practiced yoga in the early hours of the morning to the rhythm of her strong yet forced breathing. I even was able to bind in Marichasana D on my tight side. I think it was even the day or day before she transitioned on.

My Grandma taught me so much about pain, death, and family during this time. I tried my best as a visitor from California to be there and be grounded, be compassionate for my family. And it was hard to do that. It was hard to see them come apart at the scenes and feel like though you wanted to, you couldn't. As if something kept you from it.

I was named after my Grandma and she was one of the strongest ladies I knew, who got things done. She didn't fuss or make a big deal about it. She was a nurse and she was used to long hard hours and endless self sacrifice. At the same time, she was fun and laughed a lot while she called you on your shit. Up until the last days she was talking, she was cracking jokes and speaking her mind.

She transitioned on surrounded by her family and so much love. I knew by the end of the week I was in the exact spot I needed to be and I was giving what I was meant to give.

In the days that followed, I didn't know what to do or how to help. So I began my day with yoga and tai chi. I figured that maybe if I could keep steady, my family could keep steady.

My family on my mom's side is a range personalities and A LOT of feminine energy. For some reason, people look at me and they go, "well of course Barbara does this crazy artistic thing that we couldn't think of or do." And I just am so adamant that the answer to that is, "yes! You can do it. You are capable of more that how you see yourself!" I probably get to be a little airy fairy for people if I start talking about it, so I try to just hold my tongue and not say anything unless people ask me.

So I started connecting more with my cousins, aunts, and uncles and on Instagram and Facebook, I'd post snippets of my practice. Mostly because without regular access to my teachers, I wanted to see and understand for myself what I needed to work on.

I even watched a yoga practice session with my brother who lightly chided me for moving too fast. He said to take my time with it.

"Yeah, see, when I was practicing, I loved up dog, you should take your time with it more. You're missing out on that stretch."

My cousin would ask me advice about breathing in yoga and how to get started at home because she wasn't ready to start going to a class. Another two cousins and I bonded over plants and essential oils. She is growing the Oxheart tomatoes that come from my Italian great grandfather (my Grandma Barbara's dad), who loved these tomatoes for sauce and just everything. In fact, my Grandma still has two living older sisters (96 & 106) and she said that the secret to her longevity was to eat tomatoes and have a little brandy every so often.

Here I'd been so secret about these holistic and artistic practices, considering myself to be the family anomaly and just like most things, I was looking myopically. My family was so supportive of me. Not who I tried to be or wanted to become, just everything I was at that moment, they saw as valuable and worth emulating. For that I am eternally grateful.

Part of me wonders about the synchronicity of this experience and wonders what my Grandma may have been trying to say. While I haven't always called or been able to visit, I never doubted for a second that she loved me deeply and truly saw me for who I am.

A couple hours after she passed, I was sitting in the family lounge with my relatives enjoying the memory of her and what she gave us. I was going through my email trying to find something about her ancestry to give to my cousins and I came across a lot of forwards of prayers and wishes and beautiful pictures from her. Then, I came on a direct message from her to me. She saw an email I sent about my upcoming play production and was sending me some money and wishing me luck. Matter of fact, supportive, and loving. I read it and it was a confirmation of everything I already knew.

So, "my practice" has taken a turn because I can longer see it as just for me and a source for my comfort solely. I see my family, my friends watching me and taking something from the one thing I do think I'm okay at — continuing to show up. This has made all the difference to me and propels me forward in dark times so that I can see those faces saying to me that they saw what I did and tried it for themselves.

Thank you and thank you to my beautiful Grandma for showing me how to continue day after day through the hardship with only love to guide you.

You got me, Universe or whatever. I’ll write about it. Mainly because I need to get it out of my brain. I can only talk about it outloud so much before people’s eyes glaze over. No, you don’t understand! I really need an outlet, so you are it, blog.

It really shouldn’t be so hard to just throw this stuff onto a page, but I have worked myself into knots thinking I’d be capable of just shutting up and silently doing my own thing. But I can’t, okay? I am not capable of that. I’ll freak out. This stuff is just so endlessly fascinating. I could talk about it for DAYSSSSSSS 😍.

And if you want to know the truth, I’m kinda constantly thinking about my various practices. It’s always on my mind.

Sometimes it’s how they work together. Sometimes it’s just sheer confusion of how can I get better at this thing I’m still not good at? Sometimes it’s the surprise I feel when I lost something I had down. And sometimes it’s the ease with which I’m able to jump back into it and beyond. It changes.

But I guess I’ll just start by starting…

THESE THOUGHTS ARE FREEFORM RAMBLINGS BY AN AMATEUR!! I’m just gonna go off but like I can’t be thinking every two seconds about how someone is going to evaluate me on how or what I say so anyway… the grammar and my terminology and all this stuff probably needs work thanks

So, I do Ashtanga now. I remember reading this comment on instagram by Sharath Jois (head of the main school, grandson of the founder) who was {paraphrasing here} saying how sometimes you can do a certain really hard posture and sometimes you can’t. He was saying how your practice morphs and changes.

I’m kind of obsessed with certain things like tai chi. But you know really I should say internal martial arts because I practice more than tai chi. I guess I could say energy centric practice like my teacher. I just like to say “tai chi” because I think most folks have a close enough reference point. Oh, but they don’t know…

If they only knew!

That’s so annoying to say because everyone who is new to something has no idea. Gah, where do I get off? The experience of practicing tai chi tho, it’s like… It’s just really really cool. Really eye opening like whaaat? Like this whole time this is available to us? Why? How? Wtf? Yes, I think about this hourly. Ah, if only I got paid for these thoughts I’d be like Scrooge McDuck swimming in my gold coin swimmimg pool.

Anyway, today I was really getting down on myself because I’ve sorta been lazy and not practicing as diligently as I usually do. I get this way with writing too. I think about it all the time and then if you don’t have a project you kind of scare yourself into thinking that writing is hard and onerous and you don’t have enough time to do what you want to do with it. All true. So so so very true… 😭

I had an “ohhhhhhhh THIS is why teachers tell you to never stop practicing do something everyday even if it’s a little bit” kind of realization (not new, I have these once a month if not more frequently). Man, it sure does takes a second to get back to where you were. I think you gotta be really diligent and humble and nonexpectant about it when you jump back in.

When I went off to school for a dramatic writing program I’d been doing martial arts for a year and some change. It didn’t happen overnight, but slowly my skill, my athleticism, physique, etc., etc., began to shift because my priorities changed. I had to focus on writing and recovering from the writing. In retrospect, being more disciplined about my practice might have helped me roll with writing shit that comes up and school stuff, but ah well so it goes. I didn’t do that then.

When I moved back, I expected to jump back in with all my skill in tact like hey! READY! Nope. Did not work that way. It took months and maybe YEARS to get and surpass where I was when I left. Gah! Never again!

Things are shifting again. I no longer have a school or even a regular time that I practice at. This is a problem. I am worried about losing what I have gained through focused yet short practice. So I must get it back.

What I thought about today is how with writing whenever I feel like shit this is not working, how just doing something that I truly love –like have so much fun doing, brings me back. Recallibrates me. Today, I was like no, i HAVE to do tai chi during my lunch hour. Say what you like, but I can take at least 20-30 minutes and do a couple things with that.

I did some of the stuff I usually do like I often start with a timed quiet standing. I time it so I don’t have to think about whether I’ve done it long enough. But really I do it so I can make sure I can still feel something when I do energy centric practice. I do 2 minutes though I feel something instantly in my forearms. Cool, checkmark. Then I just see if I can extend the feeling beyond my forearms. I try that until I figure out that my timer is going off and I’m not paying attention to it. I move on to something harder to do after this. Well, harder for me to do at least…

I ran through the whole Zheng Manqing 37 form. I usually don’t do that. I pick out a section or postures. Sometimes a sequence. I don’t always do the form as a whole because I feel more of a sustained stronger charge when I do postures or drills. When I do the whole thing, there are parts that are somewhat physically challenging while trying to do what I’m trying to do. At those points, I can lose my charge and literally be going through the motions. Not fun. I am less interested in that. It’s just not my thing to go through choreography. Which is why I do smaller sized movements and try to go deeper with them.

So here was the learning today– I can get trapped into thinking that because I usually get what I’m looking for from the shorter practices that I should just concentrate that for my practice. Like when I’m really diligent with a certain drill or sequence, I can get a lot out of it. It’s not beginner’s luck, this happens every time I practice. Then, I go through a form and get overly critical about the parts that I’m not that great at. Like in this ZMQ37, I’m really not good at the whole Weaving Lady part AND IT PISSES ME OFF!! Okay, well, maybe it’s not that serious, but I don’t get much there energy wise as I do in other parts of the form. Which is totally fine except that I’m a perfectionist, haha… No but, going through the whole form was interesting. It got me thinking about different aspects I hadn’t considered and ways I could revamp my training.

Then I did some xingyi and so that is always been hardest for me, but I like to see where I can get with it. I did this drill from one of my teacher’s recent books and I’m like huh, I think I’m getting better at this! I feel more of what I think I’m supposed to be feeling.

The thing is that today, while not necessarily a sort of omg I made such amazing discoveries!! 😍sort of moment, it was nice to just do the form and experience what popped up as I tried my best.

All this to say, that sometimes with getting back into practice, it’s good to just do it and pick something you either really enjoy doing or you know gets you results.

I was trying to think of the various ways to share the indiegogo for the San Francisco Olympians Festival, which is ending soon. I came up with a couple things on facebook. Ways to illistrate its importance to me and how it helps to foster an artistic theater community here in San Francisco. Then, today in the eleventh hour, I thought of my blog.

Normally the way I communicate with you all here reading is by short story and poetry. As you’ve probably already noticed, I’ve been sharing a little something every day and it’s developed into a practice for me. Originally I felt like I needed to carve out something for myself with the lowest possible stakes so that I could share my creativity — specifically creative writing– with more people. I suppose because I get nervous about using my voice some times. I worry what other people think. I do. No excuses, that’s where I’ve been at. But the amazing thing is how using this “little bit a day” approach has helped me improve my confidence and become more self-empowered.

I started this off because I needed a place where I could write freely. Where the writing could come naturally without any imposition by deadlines or writing contests or grandiose, ambitious ideas about publishing, producing, or rallying for my work in any way, shape or form.

A surprising thing happened.

People started listening.

People started following. Liking my stuff. Commenting and thanking me for doing what I do. This still baffles me. I’m not sure why. Maybe it doesn’t matter. And maybe the discomfort that I feel about it is okay.

I want to let you know that if you’ve read even one word or looked at some of my pictures or found some joy, support, or meaning in anything that I’ve put out there, I am truly grateful and thankful for that. It really does mean more than I can express in words. I’m touched.

So, what’s prompting me to say all this is that if you look at the rest of the site, you’ll see it’s kind of under construction in the sense that I haven’t yet put in plays I’ve written and pictures from productios, readings, etc. I don’t always share what I’ve done or what I’m working on and I want to get better at that. At this point, I feel okay in continuing to move forward and express that even though my hands are shaking, I have a knot in my stomach and it sort of feels like I’m going to cry. Don’t worry, I cry easily. I have tissue. 🙂

Later on, I’m probably going to either read this and cringe — potentially resisting the urge to delete or make private this post. I may laugh because there’s a part of me even now that recognizes that this is really no big deal. It’s just another step. Even though lately my life has been feeling like I’ve been leveling up and yet struggling to manage that.

All this to say that I do have something to share with you. It’s that I’m co-writing a play with a friend of mine, Julie Jigour, that is inspired by the ancient Greek god, Thanatos, the god of benevolent death. I think of him kind of like the Grim Reaper, but less scary. Like he touches you, you die peacefully perhaps. Anyway, we’re writing this story that we intend to be serialized at some point. It’s a mystery where Thanatos has been having these dream-visions that he shares with his twin, Hypnos. Now Hypnos up until this point has been able to sleep and dream, but something happened to make them not work the way they used to. Julie and I think it has to do with their sisters who are goddesses of violent death. So, in a way, it’s a crime mystery. They need to remedy the past in some type of way. We’re also playing with the idea of alternative timelines/realities and past/future realities as well.

It’s very complex. Mainly, we’re just trying to go with the flow and be kinda stream of consciousness about it.

Thanatos is also known as the black-winged god.
That reading will happen October 15th at EXIT Theatre in San Francisco. It’s a part of the San Francisco Olympians Festival and was commissioned by them. So many of you live far a way, but I did want to share that I’m doing this. It’s exciting!

And if you wanted to support not only mine and Julie’s play, you could do so by giving a gift here, in these last few days.

This festival is not only a great place for community, but it’s brought to life SO many new works and artists. It’s an incredible feat to have done in the past six years andit runs on very minimal costs. It’s one of the few writing opportunities I’ve had that pays me and other artists for creating. Not much, but to even be recognized in this way means a lot. It saysthe work you put into this matters. And it does. Art has the power to change lives…

I’ll leave it there for now, but I am going to try to post more about projects I’m working on. Take this as the start (or a deeper continuation of what already existed, if you prefer) of this endeavor.
Thank you for reading! Thank you for listening!

Whenever I have moments of these moments of self doubt, I need to do as Brit:

This is the advice I give myself: Keep the faith. Believe in you. People say sh*t, good and bad people say sh*t. Don’t let it make or break your spirit. Please yourself first and no matter what, keep writing. Pay attention to what feelings come up when you are writing. When you as the writer are feeling sensitive about something in your piece, explore it, it’s gold.

The reading of her play Dysphoria: An Apache Dance happens this weekend at MoAD.

***

Barbara Jwanouskos interviews Britney Frazier. I heard about Britney Frazier before I ever met her, when taking acting classes at Laney College under Michael Anthony Torres’ direction. I knew that she was an amazing actor — and then I got to see her in a play. Wow, blown away. As an actor, Britney brings so […]

I’ve been diligently working to *have* inspiration (as if you can really have it, it just comes…), but nada.

You know, write these little plays or moments to share.

Something new.

Anyway, I had some great ideas, but nothing that really grabbed me and was like, “no, we’re not leaving until you wtite us down”.
But then I started composing these little poems in my mind, these little strings of words together in my head and going to myseld, “oh hey, that’s pretty good, I like how that sounds or how it makes me feel”. I was about to write one down when another snuck up on me!

I had this song in my head and didn’t remember the name, only that there was a chance I’d sorted it into one of my Spotify folders. Sure enough, there it was. Btw, if you get a chance to watch the video (which I just saw for the first time just now), isn’t that strange and beautiful?

Anyway, I find the song and something tells me to grab a post-it and a pen. Then, poem.

It makes me think of the different songs and words I’ve heard before and make connections. But I also think of the music and the melodies. They are what bring me from one place to another. It takes me longer to learn the words. And so who knows, there’s probably other stuff in the poem above that I haven’t realized are song lyrics from another time when I listened to it before.

I haven’t really felt like sharing, but then I thought, fuck it, I got nothing to lose (except for my 14 views–don’t go!).

Anyway, I was trying to think of what scene to post to round this off. There’s one where Ella is teaching Jamie how to be seductive, that one’s good. Or another that’s Joe and Jamie admiring the stars. I never thought I’d pick this one, but after reading it again, I was like, “yeah, I’m okay with this.”

Sure, there’s some formatting things I’d do — like Rob Handel and a couple others convinced me not to write (beat) anymore, so I’d take that out. I like the look of open space on the page. I wouldn’t feel the need to describe what Ella and Jamie and Joe– how they should react. Because I could leave that open. That would be better.

But here it is, unedited, for your enjoyment. Then I’ll go onto the next thing maybe or linger around with this play, who knows.

If you want to read the whole thing though, send me a note.

barbara dot jwan at gmail
SCENE TWELVE:

Bakersfield, California
(JAMIE and ELLA sit at a table in a cafe. A stranger wearing sunglasses, JOE, listens at the next table over. He strums a guitar.)
JAMIE

I’m saying it’s not realistic.
ELLA

What makes it not real?
JAMIE

Well, for one, everyone’s gonna know what it is.
(ELLA plays with her lighter.)
ELLA

Who’s gonna know?
JAMIE

Everyone.

ELLA

Who?
JAMIE

Everyone!
ELLA

Who?
(A beat. JAMIE gives up.)
ELLA

No one knows we’re here. Look at me. Hey!
(JAMIE looks.)
ELLA

No one knows we’re doing this. No one even follows the Tour of California.
JAMIE

People follow it.
ELLA

Who?
JAMIE

People!
ELLA

They don’t matter. And if they did, they’d be too busy watching the races anyway.
JAMIE

Stages.
ELLA

How much money you got?
JAMIE

Less than you.
ELLA

Okay, fine.
(ELLA takes out a wallet from her purse and counts how much money she has.)
JAMIE

What makes you so sure anyway?
ELLA

I got a guy.
JAMIE

A guy? What do you mean – like someone to buy this bike? What the fuck does that mean?
ELLA

Are you fucking serious? How long you gonna keep this up?
(ELLA flicks her lighter on the table in a sort of “fuck you” motion. JAMIE sits back.)
JAMIE

You are.
ELLA

(Whispers – leaning in)

Of course I am, Jamie. What do you think? That this is some type of joke? That I don’t know what I’m doing? Of course I know. I’m planning this whole thing, remember? You’re just along for the ride, right. Or are you in. It’s not a fucking game anymore. This is it. You gotta make some decisions.
JAMIE

(Shaking her head)

Wow.
(ELLA looks at her cell phone.)
ELLA

You got ten minutes. I’m gonna use the toilet. Think about it. Think about whether you’re in or out.
(ELLA leaves the table. JOE watches her go; he tries to scribble something down in a notebook in front of him. His pen doesn’t work.)
JAMIE

(Mutters to herself)

Fuck…
(JOE leans over towards JAMIE’S table.)
JOE

Got a light.

JAMIE

Huh?
(JOE points to the lighter on the table.)
JAMIE

Oh…
(JAMIE pushes ELLA’s lighter across the table. JOE lights the tip of his pen. He smiles at JAMIE then begins to write again. The pen works.)
JOE

Never seen that?
(beat.)

If your pen’s not working but you can see it still has ink in it, you can put the tip in a flame. It’ll heat up the ink and start flowing again.
(JOE hands the lighter back to JAMIE.)
JAMIE

Oh… thanks
(JOE nods. He plucks a few chords on the guitar.)
JOE

That’s a trick that comes in handy.
(The sound of wind.)
JOE

Where you from?
JAMIE

What?
JOE

It’s like I don’t speak English or something. Where You From? Here?
JAMIE

No.
JOE

There we go. Didn’t think so. Up north , right?
JAMIE

Yeah… That’s right.
(JOE nods.)
JOE

Ukiah?
JAMIE

Santa Rosa.
(JOE nods. He plucks a few more chords.)
JOE

Where you headed?
JAMIE

South. You always talk to strangers?
JOE

Yep. Mexico?
JAMIE

Were you listening to us just now?
JOE

Sure was.
JAMIE

I’m not sure yet. Where we’re headed.
JOE

What’s your name?
JAMIE

(Sings, experimenting with different notes)

Jamie. Jamie. Jamie.
JAMIE

What’s yours?
(beat.)

Hey, what’s yours? You gotta name? Everyone has a name. What am I supposed to do, call you Joe Schmoe?
JOE

Sure, you can call me Joe.
(beat.)

I don’t mind. Good as any other name.

(beat.)

You know, if I were you, I’d part it out.
(JAMIE looks at him blankly.)
JOE

The bike. You’d get more money that way. Plus who’d be able to tell what it was originally?
(JAMIE goes white.)
JOE

Don’t worry. I’m not going to tell. I could care less really. You want to hear something? Hold on.
(He tunes the guitar. Plays a couple cords. He hums the melody then sings, accompanying himself on guitar.)
Let me have my memories without

Those lavender tinted dreams curved

Around my nighttime bed I’d be like

Pigeons wandering the streets aimlessly

Striving to simplify my life with wishes

I envy those who can make their beds

In soft feathers lining nests warmed

By carefree times gold glinting sideways

And back-alley paths near Lake Tahoe

I’d be free to lightly trace their

Silhouettes and shadows upon my eyes
Forgetful the next morning watching

Traffic wind silky paths of stars

Before the sun rises to greet me

Could my smile twinkle forest green

Solemnity and sever the bond
With an ambivalent shrug?
JAMIE

Huh.
(JOE continues to strum and hum.)
JOE

What are you afraid of?
JAMIE

What? I’m not afraid. Who said that?
JOE

People who are defensive are always afraid of something.
JAMIE

You think so?
(JOE nods, then looks at her and smiles.)
JOE

Yep.
JAMIE

Okay, so I’m scared.
JOE

Told you.
JAMIE

Why’m I telling you about it?
JOE

I don’t know. Maybe you need someone to talk to? She doesn’t seem like the confiding type…
JAMIE

Maybe…
(beat.)

Hey, what if I told you something?
JOE

I’d listen. That’s what I do.
JAMIE

(Whispers)

This girl. That girl I was just with. We’re friends, right? And she’s gonna sell- something and it could be worth a bit of money. We’ve been all around the state making videos. Posting them. We blew up. We’re this big thing now.
JOE

Sounds like fun. Like trouble.
JAMIE

It is. A whole mess of trouble. We’re not gonna wiggle out of this one. I can tell you that right now.
JOE

You think so?
JAMIE

I know so. It’s all over the internet.
JOE

Ah… the bike banditas. I’ve heard of you.
JAMIE

Yeah? You have?
JOE

Everyone has.
JAMIE

See that’s what I’m saying. That’s the problem.
JOE

Is it?
JAMIE

Cuz we’re gonna get caught eventually.
JOE

Not if you ditch it.
JAMIE

We’ll see. That’s what Ella wants to do. I’ve wanted to all along, but she keeps holding on til the last second. I’d never tell her, but I actually kinda enjoy it. The journey that is. But at the same time, I have to be the voice of reason. Ella thinks too grandiose. Too big picture. She forgets the details. Like that this is a felony. Like that we could end up in jail. Like that 18,000 dollars is a lot of money and where do you get that kinda money outta nowhere anyway?
JOE

People make money in weird ways.
JAMIE

Tell me about it.
JOE

So what are you gonna do?
JAMIE

(Sighs)

Keep on going along for the ride, I guess. See what happens.
JOE

Even though you know what does?
(JAMIE shrugs.)
JAMIE

What else am I gonna do?
JOE

Oh, I don’t know. There’s a lot of things you could do.
(ELLA enters. She stands behind JAMIE, looking at JOE, who smiles at her.)
ELLA

Who’s this?
JAMIE

Oh, hey Ella.
(beat.)

Wouldn’t say his name.
ELLA

Why not? Is it so scary we can’t handle it?
JOE

Something like that.
ELLA

Must be a pretty terrible name… Well, I’m Ella. And you’ve already met Jamie, I see. We gotta run. Right, Jamie?
(She stares at JAMIE who returns her gaze.)
JAMIE

You getting the idea that this play is a modern western? There’s lots of landscape and expansiveness.

Also, Pat Parra did the music for the first reading back in 2010. I’ll see if I still have those recordings somewhere, but until then, here’s one of his tracks with a music video directed by his brother who is a filmmaker, Danilo Parra.

This song relates to i stole lance armstrong’s bike in that it was the impetus for the whole play. I will share that next, but first, a really long digression…

I warned you.

Of course, I felt tremendously sad to hear the news of David Bowie. A friend put it best – and I’m paraphrasing but she said whenever there was a report of another celebrity death in the back of her mind she’d go, “Please not David Bowie.” I could relate to that.

You know, sometimes you think the stars are going to go out with a bang – and sometimes they do, but I think it’s equally as sad when the page just turns and poof, they’re gone… Like, “Bowie? Oh, yeah, he’s not here any more.” Well, that sucks. Not that things and people and places can last forever, but you know…

When I was first starting to get into collecting records, I found Ziggy Stardust in a dusty dollar bin underneath the main stacks at this record store, Streetlight, in San Jose. I didn’t know what it was or really anything about David Bowie at that point except for The Labyrinth – which is another obsession from back when I was a little kid. I listened to the album and over and over again. I guess I was in my late teens or something.

It’s funny because though this post is about song obsessions and about the beginnings of i stole lance armstrong’s bike specifically, I could actually weave this song into my other work too.

In my punk play, a character is introducing a song and says something along the lines of, “I was about to tell you that I wrote this song during a very difficult time in my life, but then, when have times ever been easy?”

That is a quintessential feeling I get from listening to The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars and Low. And that is who David Bowie is to me. I was depressed and listening to David Bowie’s music often moved me through those feelings.

So, yeah, this song, I’m obsessed with. I love it when Bowie sings it and I love it when Kurt Cobain sings it.

For me, song obsession is kinda like this– I’m modifying a little what the character Biz said in a play I wrote, It’s All In The Mix.

BIZ: I just thought of this song. I knew I’d have to play it at some point during the day. I mean, really, I’m probably gonna have to play this song a couple more times before I feel past it. And that’s the thing too cuz I could be playing this for weeks. Or months. Finding a way to work it into every mixtape, every time I play a club or party… Cuz if I got really obsessed with it, I’d be trying to figure out a way to work it intoeverything I do. I’d be with my friends like “(David Bowie) is the shit!” Just claiming it, I’d know that’s it. That feeling. The song. It’d be me by then. My motto for life…

The Man Who Sold The World…

Sometimes in generative writing workshops, the instructor will ask you to think of what your play sounds or tastes or smells like. Like my first playwriting teacher, Naomi Iizuka, would say this and you would free write for a while with just whatever popped. I started with a desk, a desire to write something new, an idea about a bike theft, and this song.

I played this song and it would run out so I’d play it some more. And then, I’d play another version.

A monologue resulted, but more than that, I could see, feel, and touch the world of my play within my mind. And I knee exactly how it would feel to be in that space at that time with those people.

This monologue was first and I kept on writing around it, completely or mostly out of order. It was more or less the equivalent of a sketch when I passed it onto another teacher, Octavio Solis, who asked how I wrote it. I said that I just wrote it as it came to me. He said “what if you put it in order?” Huh! I hadn’t thought of that.

So, I did. And this monologue which was first, and was originally a letter, moved to the middle. I’ve edited and shaped it a bit along with everything else.

And so recently I’ve been thinking that maybe I will sing songs for people. Live. But for realsies, not just karaoke. And maybe I will do my version of this song. Of course, I would like create my own music too. Like if I made an opera it would sound like that harmonizing haunting part at the end.

I can’t seem to find any good versions by female singers, except for this one with a theramin. So maybe I should create what I want to see and experience. I think I’d aim for more like those acoustic ones above though. And that definitely feels like the spirit of i stole lance armstrong’s bike.

Oh, this one is really interesting too. Dark, kinda like a sci-fi noir film soundtrack or something. It would have really gone well with this radio show I used to have called Miz Scarlet in the Lounge with the Turntables.

I don’t know why this song illicited this monologue, but it did, so I’m going with it. Even though now the song reminds me more about this recent writing than it does angst. Says on wikipedia that the song was alluding to multiple identies, but I thought it was just a memory of a person from another lifetime.

But isn’t this interesting?

“I guess I wrote it because there was a part of myself that I was looking for. Maybe now that I feel more comfortable with the way that I live my life and my mental state (laughs) and my spiritual state whatever, maybe I feel there’s some kind of unity now. That song for me always exemplified kind of how you feel when you’re young, when you know that there’s a piece of yourself that you haven’t really put together yet. You have this great searching, this great need to find out who you really are.” — David Bowie

This monologue is towards the middle. They’ve met this busker they call Joe Schmoe. And there’s this sort of power/attraction triangle going on. Like I said, originally this was a letter she sent to another character who was never in the play. So I played with it more in the editing process.
JAMIE:

I can’t take the despair anymore. It’s too much and it’s enveloping me like a snake. I can feel it coiling around my body my stomach and my throat and I have nowhere else to turn. How else to get out of this 4 by 4 space with her there judging every move every thought every action turns into something I regret. How do I get out of this place?

We’re in the desert now making our way back to civilization and time seems to be speeding up infinitesimally exponentially. It’s growing without end. I see no end in sight. She looks at me waiting for me to break. I look back defying that will. I will not break, you see. That’s something she doesn’t see.

I could never understand what she wanted with it. Why travel this far. Why not ditch it? At anytime we could and she holds onto it. Holds it over me. I can’t take it anymore. She’s getting to me. I’m starting to think that maybe I’m crazy or that maybe she is. I’m not sure which one of us is right. So maybe it means we both aren’t.

Behold me, Ella. I am the carrier of the wind of change. I will be here and propel myself in front of the car Ella drives with Lance Armstrong’s bike in the back seat tire sticking out the window. I am the change that she didn’t see coming. I will force my way out of this trap. This cage. This prison. She doesn’t realize what a power she’s messing with. But I know. You know, you’ve seen it. And could vouch for me if I needed you to, right?

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